


Keep Stupid to a Maximum

by ChelleyPam



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:09:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4066255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelleyPam/pseuds/ChelleyPam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie knew that Monroe was her enemy, but she didn't even know what the guy looked like. This idea was bound to fall under the 'stupid' category.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Stupid to a Maximum

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Of Flower Girls and Futures](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182278) by [ladyofbrileith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofbrileith/pseuds/ladyofbrileith). 



> _It's too soon for any 'real life' smut in 'Lorna Sterling' and I needed to get an idea out of my head._
> 
> _When LemonSupreme wrote 'At First Sight' for my birthday, it was based off an idea I had where Monroe arrived at Drexel's while our heroes were there. Didn't she do and awesome job! :)_
> 
> _This is a not-as-nice one shot from the same idea._
> 
> _This fic also contains a bit inspired by another lighter-hearted fic._
> 
> _Enjoy._

Nora lay on the bed unmoving as she, Miles and Aaron looked on. They didn't yet know if it had worked. Their friend still looked the same.

Drexel came in with a few of his men and the doctor in tow. The men moved to the bed to Nora with quiet efficiency. Miles started. “What are you doing?”

“Relax, Miles.” Drexel held up a placating hand. “Everything's fine, we just have to move you guys to the other side of the house.

“What?”

The drug lord rolled his eyes. “A courier just arrived to let me know that your buddy Monroe is on his way here for a little R&R.” Everyone tensed but he just waved it off. “It'll be fine, but your girl can't be moved. So, I'm moving you to the side where the staff sleeps. The rooms aren't as nice, but he'll never go there. So, as long as you guys keep quiet, he'll never know you're here.”

Miles looked unconvinced, but he couldn't need Nora. “We'll need our weapons.”

“House rules, Miles.”

“Like Monroe is really gonna let you disarm him and his men? You gotta leave us something to defend ourselves if he gets paranoid enough to do a search.”

Drexel mulled it over. After a moment, he gave a nod. “Okay, but no going on a Militia hunt. You stay in your rooms. You can use the back stairs to the kitchen for meals if you want, but no coming to this side of the house. No looking to pick a fight.”

“We'll be quiet as church mice.”

~***~

Charlie had slipped out quietly. She didn't intend to go far, just to where she could get a look at the soldiers when they arrived. She found a hallway window and was hovering at the edge peering through the filmy gauze of the window dressings as horses came through the large gates.

“Trying to catch a glimpse of the dragon?”

She jumped and spun, looking up at Drexel. “I...I was just...”

He gave her a curious look. “I thought you were supposed to stay in your room.”

“I just...I don't even know what the guy looks like.”

“Ah.” Drexel looked over her shoulder out the window. “Kind of hard to know your enemy if you don't know his face, I guess.” He gave a couple nods of his head, his lips pursed a bit. “I might be able to help you get a closer look.” Charlie frowned up at him in confusion. “El Presidente likes to get a hot bath before going to bed. If you're not too scared, I could let you slip in with the girls filling it up.”

That would definitely fall in with the ideas Miles thought were stupid. But, still, she didn't even know Monroe's face. Charlie took in a nervous breath and nodded. 

“Cool. All fun and games, right? After dinner you slip out with Marion, she's the brunette with the great rack, and she'll loan you a dress better suited to the job, then when Monroe wants his bath, you and the girls will carry in the water. You can see the monster up close and personal. All good?”

She nodded again. “Yeah, all good.” 

He smiled and gave her a light slap on the shoulder. “Now get back into hiding. I have to go greet my guests.”

The rest of the afternoon was tense. Miles thought she was jumpy from the stress of having Militia and Monroe so close, and assured her everything was going to be all right. It would have been more convincing if he wasn't so obviously worried himself.

They ate their dinner in the kitchen with the staff, which happened a bit before Drexel and guests were served. She excused herself from having in Nora's room with an excuse of needing some alone time and slipped out the same door Marion used. The older girl took her to her room and helped her find a dress that was barely more than some stretchy lace over something flesh colored. It barely came a few inches below her privates and she thought calling it a 'dress' was a bit generous. Her hair was put up in a loose bun atop her head.

It was another hour and a half before Monroe's bath was needed. Charlie spent some of that time getting used to the heels that came with the dress so that she wouldn't stumble like a newborn foal. Then she, Marion and another girl started carrying in buckets of water from the dumbwaiter sent up from the kitchens to his room.

Sebastian Monroe looked nothing like she had expected. She had imagined him as grossly overweight, stuffed from years of taking food out of the mouths of the citizens. Maybe balding and pox marked with greasy hair. Instead he was strongly built and lean with a mop of dark blond curls and clear blue eyes. He was in the room as they brought in the water, seated on the end of the bed as he removed his boots, eyes going up to watch their progress now and then. 

Once when she was trying to sneak a look at him she found herself meeting those blue eyes. He looked at her with unfeigned interest and it made her jerk slightly in surprise. Thankfully, she didn't spill the water. He smiled slightly at her reaction and she quickly ducked her head.

The last few buckets poured, she straightened to follow the other girls out. Monroe had risen from the bed and reached out to touch her wrist. “Stay.”

Her heart started pounding. Did he know who she was? She stared at him mutely as he took the pail from her hand and handed it off to Marion. The other girl gave her a brief, unreadable look before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. Leaving her alone with Monroe.

“I don't think I've seen you before. Are you new?”

“Y...yes.”

“I thought so.” His hand moved up, a thumb rubbing against the inside of her elbow. “No track marks. You haven't started sampling the merchandise.” He pulled at her arm gently, bringing her closer. “What's your name?”

Charlie swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Grace.” It wasn't actually a lie. Grace was her middle name. 

He smiled. “Grace. That's lovely. It suits you.”

“Thank you.” She finally tore her gaze away from those eyes. “I should go.”

“Why?”

“So you can get on with your bath.”

He gave her a somewhat playful smile. “I was rather hoping you'd help me with that.” He tugged her towards the tub, releasing her hand so he could divest himself of his clothing.

What the hell? Drexel had said Monroe liked a hot bath before bed. He hadn't said anything about wanting someone to bathe him!

The President of the Monroe Republic tossed his dirty clothes over the back of a chair and lowered a...rather impressive body down into the steaming water with a contented groan. She tried to keep from staring as he leaned back against the high back of the porcelain tub, stretching his legs out as much as the length would allow. 

Charlie swallowed and made her way over to the side of the tub, kneeling down onto the polished wood floor and picking up a washcloth. She tried not to think of the naked man in the hot water as she got it wet and started to wet down the skin not submerged in water. She'd done this for Danny when he'd been sick with a particularly nasty case of the flu and couldn't bathe himself. She just needed to be clinical about this. Professional. Just like Maggie taught her.

“I knew a Grace once.”

She paused for maybe half a second before resuming. “You did?”

“Well, met her. She was a friend of a friend. My brother and I were home for leave. This was before the Blackout. We attended a Christening and she was the godmother. They gave the baby her name; Charlotte Grace Matheson.”

Charlie swallowed. She knew that story. Her father had told it to her. About his friend Grace who was her godmother and for whom she was named. Her first name came from her maternal grandmother, and her middle name came from her godmother. “You don't hear about Christenings much anymore.”

“No, you don't. People either lost all faith or found religion. Either way, the churches just don't have the pull they used to without social networks and television.”

She picked up the soap, something that smelled of rosemary and mint, clean and fresh. She lathered up the cloth and started washing one of his arms. He made a humming sound of approval, eyes closed as he soaked in the water.

“I've wondered about that girl. Charlotte.”

 _Don't react. Keep calm._ “You have?”

“Yeah. I didn't have a family to home to, so my brother, not my real brother but we'd been together so long we might as well be, he'd take me home with him on leave. And, for some reason, Charlotte and me got along real well. She..uh...couldn't make up her mind if she wanted to be a princess or a tomboy. I'd find her climbing the tree in the back yard while wearing her ballet leotard and fairy wings.” 

A memory of doing just that flashed through her mind. Of a handsome man laughing up at her and holding his arms out. She would just jump out of the tree, knowing Bastian would always catch her.

She dropped the soap in the water. “Sorry.” He made no move to fetch it, so she made herself reach into the tub to get it back. “What happened to her?”

“According to recent reports, she's still alive and well.” She avoided meeting his eyes, aware that he was watching her as she retrieved the soap and started lathering the rag some more to start on his legs. “Huh...I guess that means I'm engaged.”

She gripped the soap tight so as not to lose it again. “Engaged.” Not even a squeak. Thank goodness.

He gave a little chuckle and leaned his head back again. “Yeah. A bit before the lights went out I got this phone call. Me and Miles, we were at a bar chatting up a couple of co-eds, and my phone rings saying it's Miles' brother. I answer it, and it's Charlie. Crying. Practically hysterical.”

She didn't remember that. “What was wrong?” She held his leg up by the ankle, resting his heel on the tub as she soaped the limb. 

“She and her mom had been talking about flower girls for some reason and the woman had mentioned I might ask her to be mine if I was getting married. She was upset because she thought I might be. I wasn't, of course.”

“Why would that upset her?” She looked up to find him leaning with his head back, looking up at the ceiling with a goofy smile on his face.

“She liked me. She was only five, had just started kindergarten, but when I was home we were practically inseparable. She made me promise that I'd wait to get married until she was old enough to be the bride.”

She did _what_? She didn't remember that! Did she really do that?! “That's...cute. But, she was just a kid.”

“Yeah. She was.” He considered for a moment. “Well, kind of. She could be awfully serious for a child. Very grown up in a lot of ways, far more than she should have been.”

There was something wistful in his voice. This was the Big Bad General Monroe? He seemed like...just an ordinary guy. “Sounds like you miss her.”

“I do. I'm glad to know she's still alive. I hope she stays that way. Considering the gene pool she came from, I wager she's grown up to be one hell of a girl.”

 _Wouldn't you like to know._ “Do you want me to wash your hair, too?”

“Definitely.” He shifted in the tub until so he could dunk his head under and get the curls drenched as she moved around behind the tub. Coming back up, he reclined again so she could take the bar of soap to his hair. “I swear that's the worst part of traveling; the road dust in your scalp.”

She lathered up his hair and massaged his scalp. The scary general all but purred under her ministrations. She would have been rougher, but she kept telling herself that she was posing as one of Drexel's girls and they probably would be all kinds of nice to Monroe. So she took her time, cleaning the sweat and road dust from his hair and skin and trying not to notice how his eyes studied her face as she worked. 

Finally, his hair was clean and he lowered into the water so she could gentle comb it through to rinse the lather from it. She ignored how silky those curls felt between her fingers as she did so and told herself she was relieved when the task was done.

She stood up and went to grab a towel, only to have Monroe's hand grasp her wrist with firm, gentle pressure. “Your turn.”

“I'm sorry?”

He smiled up at her, boyish and charming. “You took care of me, now I'm going to take care of you. Get in.” Surely he didn't mean that. He tugged on her wrist lightly. “Come on.”

He released her wrist, confident that she'd comply. The urge to run like hell raced through her, but that might blow her cover. Or make people start asking questions. 

What would one of Drexel's girls do?

Licking her lips, she turned away slightly and tried not to think about it as she reached up behind her neck and started the zipper down. One it was started, she shifted her arms to reach up and behind to pull it the rest of the way down. The dress hadn't allowed any undergarments, so she was nude after she slid it down and picked it up just long enough to drape it over the seat of the same chair he'd used for his clothes. 

Then, slowly and without meeting his eyes, she stepped into the still hot water, easing herself down. Monroe had already claimed the soap and wash cloth and was holding it in one hand while he used the other to coax her around so her back was to him and pulled her back to rest against his chest.

“You're tense.” He started coaxing water up from the surface of the bath over her shoulders, neck and chest. “Did the girls here tell you a bunch of scary stories about me?” She could feel him smiling against her neck.

Charlie swallowed. “Everyone has heard about you. They make you sound pretty scary.”

She felt him run his nose lightly against the skin of her neck, heard him inhale and felt him shiver. “Scary? I assure you, Grace, I never leave a lady wanting.”

Crap.

He lathered up the wash cloth and began to gently clean her skin in slow, circular motions. “You're not like the other girls here. You're...shy, but stronger some how.”

She gave a slight shrug with one shoulder. “I'm just me.”

“What did you do before you came here?”

This was getting too deep. “Helped out around the village. Farmers mostly. Nothing all that exciting.”

“Hmm.” He stroked her arms, pulling water up with his hands to rinse off the soap. “This place...it may seem like excitement and glamour, but if you stay here, it will burn you out. You should get out before you get addicted. Heroine is a rough habit to break.” He pulled up water to rinse off her shoulders, neck and chest, one hand lingering over her breasts while the other moved under the water to caress the curve of her waist. “But not tonight.”

If she said anything, alarm would be raised. Or maybe not? Maybe Monroe had enough decency in him to accept 'no'. Or maybe he'd let her go tonight, but want to seek her out the next day. It would increase the chances that he'd find Miles, Nora and Aaron.

She could just go with it. What would be the harm? It wasn't like she was a prude, it was just that there hadn't been any boys back home her age other than Danny, and _that_ wasn't going to happen. She knew about sex, Maggie had taught her in a surprisingly non-clinical way and had told her what to expect. It would be uncomfortable the first time, and maybe the two or three times after that, as her body learned to adjust to the invasion. It would get better, though, especially if she was with someone who knew what he was doing and took his time with it.

So...she just needed to relax. How long could he possibly take, after all?

She heard the pleased sound he made as she let the tension go from her muscles, letting her head rest comfortably on his shoulder. Warm lips pressed against her temple before trailing down and over to graze the shell of her ear. The one hand at her breast massaged and teased her nipple, causing it to tingle and harden. 

Strong fingers rubbed circles against her skin under the water, moving from her lower belly, over the top of one thigh, then making their way inward until they stopped circling and combed their way through the coarse, darker blonde curls between her legs. He pressed a heated kiss to the side of her neck as he delved down to rub her clit with deliberate strokes.

Charlie jumped in response, surprised not that he touched her, but that it felt so nice. She'd explored herself, of course, usually while out in the woods by herself and away from the room she shared with Danny, but this was different. It wasn't her fingers so all she felt was the pleasure brought on by strong, battle calloused hands.

Monroe was murmuring soft words against her skin, telling her she was beautiful and what he planned to do to her. She didn't understand all of it, some of it sounded more complicated and involved than just sex, but his whiskey roughened voice made it all sound darkly delicious. 

He continued to manipulate her body, making her hips roll in an instinctual response. His cock was heated and firm, trapped between their bodies and making itself known to her. He slipped a thick finger into her and she felt more full than when she was on her own. After a moment he attempted a second digit and stopped when she made an uncomfortable grunt and her body tried to jerk away.

She bit her lip. “Sorry.”

He stroked her inner thigh soothingly. “You've done nothing wrong.” He kissed a sensitive spot behind her ear. “Stand up.”

She did so and he stood up behind her, getting out of the tub. Before she could figure out what he was planning he hooked one arm behind her knees and used the other to support her back as he picked her up and lifted her from the tub. She gasped, arms going about his shoulders in reflex as he carried her over to the wide bed and laid her down atop it, heedless that they would get the bedding wet. He barely gave her time to wrap her mind around the change before a lean, hard body was covering hers, lips claiming her mouth in a heated kiss.

He tasted of the whiskey he'd had after dinner. It wasn't an unpleasant taste. He coxed her tongue out to play as he let his hands roam over her curves, learning the shape of her. The chill of the air against her wet skin contrasted deliciously with the heat coming from his body as he began to work his way down the length of her, kissing and tasting his way over her skin.

There was something freeing in having decided to just let it happen. Charlie closed her eyes and let herself feel what he was doing. Strong, sure hands tracing circles into her heated skin. Lips and tongue and teeth nibbling and kissing as he moved further down her body. Her hands came up to knead into his shoulders, encouraging him closer even though that wasn't possible. He chuckled against the skin of her lower belly, the rumbling sound making her quiver in response as he nudged her legs apart and lay between them, lowering his mouth to their apex.

The first feel of his lips and tongue against her made Charlie arch up from the bed. Monroe placed a firm hand against her belly to keep her in place as he continued to feast. The fingers of one of her hands threaded through his curls, short nails flexing against his scalp as teeth and tongue tugged took turns between teasing her engorged clit and delving inside to savor her. She wanted to both wriggle away to spare her sanity and press closer for more, and this time when he added a blunt, strong finger and hooked it upwards to attack from the inside, she shattered into one million pieces.

She was gasping for breath when she stopped screaming. He was already making his way back up her body and claimed her lips in another kiss. She tasted herself on him and didn't find it unpleasant so she kissed him back even as he reached down to hook one of her legs over his hip. 

Something blunt, hard and thick pressed into her and she flinched.

“Relax.” His voice was warm and husky as he kissed her. “Trust me.” He reached down between them and pinched her clit. The bite of pleasure combined with the aftershocks of her orgasm made her groan and flex. He took advantage of that moment to push a bit further, the pleasure warring with the discomfort of the invasion. He continued combing pleasure with moving forward until he was fully seated within her, stretching her beyond what she would have imagined she could withstand.

“So fucking tight.” His arms came back up to slide under her shoulders and hold her close. “You feel so damn good.” He ground his hips against hers, applying pressure against her clit and making her moan. He bit her jaw lightly as he began to move. She was still slick from her release, making it easier, though the muscles of her vaginal walls still protested the girth of him. 

Monroe began to thrust in slow, long strokes, ending each one by grinding against her to stimulate her and bring a kiss of pleasure for putting up with the soreness. He was patient and attentive and the discomfort began to fade into the background as his hands resumed their exploration of the rest of her. He was everywhere at once, pulling her into him as though he wanted to devour her. In spite of knowing this was the last man she should want to do that, she reveled in it. This was something that was hers. Something she didn't have to share. As wrong as it was, she wanted it.

His thrusts were picking up in pace, his breath coming in hard grunts as he reached down between them and began to pinch and roll her clit again. He coaxed her higher again until he brought her over the edge. She didn't have enough breath to scream this time, so she heard his roar as he met his own orgasm. He grasped her hips, holding her tight and close as he emptied himself deep inside her.

It took a moment before he was able to catch his breath enough to pull out of her and roll over onto his back. They both lay there on the damp sheets, gasping in cool lungfuls of fresh air. Now that the heat of his body was gone, she was starting to feel chilled. A shiver ran through her and he seemed to understand. Sitting up somewhat he reached higher onto the bed and pulled the covers down before urging her to climb under with him.

She woke sometime later when the moon was still in the sky. She could see it through the window. Monroe lay beside her, his arm heavy across her waist. The realization of what she had done began to crash over her and she knew she needed to get out of there. When she moved to get up, however, he twitched awake in response.

Monroe lay his head back down onto the pillow, his hand lazily stroking her back. “You feeling all right?”

She was sore, but not so much she couldn't move. She nodded. “Yeah. I...I should go. Get back to my room.”

He watched her, his expression unreadable as his thumb made small circles against her skin. “You need to get out of this place.”

She frowned. “What?”

“Get out of here, Grace.” He reached up and brushed an errant lock of hair from her face. “This place...it will destroy you. I know farm life can seem boring and tedious, but I'm sure there are people that love you. Don't let Drexel's money and comfort make you do something stupid. You can still have a good life.” He stroked her cheek with a finger. “Go home. Find a guy who worships you and get married. Let him give you a home and children. Take it from someone who knows; Life doesn't mean a damn thing without family.”

Not something she would expect to hear from Sebastian Monroe.

 

Charlie swallowed and gave a quiet nod. He leaned up and pressed another long kiss to her lips before letting her go. She kept quiet as she slipped out of his bed and pulled the dress back on. She grabbed up the shoes and carried them as she left and made her way as quickly as she could back towards the other end of the house. 

She got to Marion's room and was about to knock when the door opened. She froze, looking at Jeremy Baker, the officer Miles had taken prisoner back at that rebel base. _Shit._

Jeremy looked somewhat disheveled and like a man who had just spent a pleasant few hours in Marion's bed. The older girl was still naked and was seeing him on his way out. She saw Charlie and thought real quick.

“There you are. About time he let you up.”

Baker frowned at her. “Do I know you?”

Charlie lowered her eyes and shook her head. “No. I don't think so.” She kept her voice soft, hoping that would be enough to keep him from recognizing it.

“Huh. You look familiar some how.” He seemed to shake it off and turned back to give Marion a good-bye kiss. “Good night, Ladies. I will be having the most pleasant dreams.”

“'Night, Captain.” Marion watched him walk down the hall before grabbing Charlie by the wrist and pulling her inside, shutting the door behind them. “I thought you were so busted when he held you back. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think so. Do you still have my clothes?”

“I hid them in the bureau. I knew one of them would pay me a visit tonight.” Charlie started getting back out of the dress. “Shit!”

She froze. “What?”

Marion came over and bent down, running a hand over her thigh. Charlie looked down to see brownish-red streaks of blood. “Was he your first?”

She blushed. “Yeah.”

“Damn, girl. Way to stick to your cover. He probably thought he'd hit the fucking jackpot.” She walked over to a bedside table and pulled out a little jar. “Here. Use this when you get back to your room. It will help with the soreness.” She shrugged as she put it in Charlie's hand. “Sometimes a customer gets a bit too...rough.”

Charlie thanked her, still blushing furiously, and got back into her clothes. Somehow she managed to get back to her room without waking Miles or the others.

~***~

Nora was stable enough to move by morning. Miles and Aaron carried her out through the kitchen's back door to a new wagon that didn't have a Militia insignia on it, placing her onto a cushioned pallet Drexel's doctor had built her. They had some supplies as well, food and water, to keep her strength up.

They left through the back fields, looking like just another work crew going out to harvest latex from the poppies. No one but Drexel and his guards was any the wiser.

~***~

“You have been an excellent host, as always.”

Drexel spread his arms. “I aim to please. I'm glad we could let you blow off steam for a few days.” He refilled Monroe's glass, then Baker's, before topping off his own. 

Bass saluted him with the glass before taking a drink. “I haven't seen Grace again.”

“I let her go. Just like you asked.” Drexel gave a single shouldered shrug. “Didn't realize you wanted her to stay around until you left. I could send one of my boys out, see if they can find her for you.”

“No, let her go. She seems like a good girl. Let her have a normal life.”

“As normal as anyone can have these days.”

They were digging into plates of steak, potatoes and honeyed carrots when Baker suddenly dropped his fork and aimed his side arm and Drexel's head.

Bass blinked. “Whoa! Jeremy! What's this about?”

“I just remembered where I've seen 'Grace' before.” The officer kept a cold stare at Drexel. “With Miles. She was with him at that Rebel base. She was the one who helped Nora Clayton set off that explosion and get him away from us.” 

Bass stilled in his seat. “Charlotte. She was Charlotte.” He rose slowly from his seat, his hands coming to rest on the table as he looked towards Drexel. “And if Charlotte Matheson was here, Mile was as well. Care to fill me in?”

Drexel told them everything. How Miles showed up with his gang to seek medical care for Nora. How he, Drexel, had let them hide out in the servants quarters when Monroe and company arrived. And how he had arranged for Charlie to be with the girls who filled Monroe's bath to let the girl satisfy her curiosity about what he looked like to satisfy his own impishness, never thinking it would go as far as it did.

Monroe had his men take Drexel and his people into custody. He'd figure out what to do with them later. “Jeremy, I want you to get me one of our best sketch artists. I need to put out a new wanted poster. Charlotte Matheson. Twenty-five pounds of gold, same as Miles. Alive only.”

Baker blinked in surprised at that. “You want the girl alive, too?”

“Of course.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I have a promise to keep.”

**Author's Note:**

> _Remember, comments are my drug of choice._


End file.
